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Weekly Contest #91
The rain has only started freckling his forehead when Ahsan realised how utterly lost in the disorientating vastness of the city he was. Buildings morphed into a maze of steel and glass, foreboding and threatening as they rose all around him. Dozens of his reflection strode along beside him in the endless glass fronted shops. In this place, the internal map which once dictated his sense of direction back in his hometown was useless, a scruffy child’s drawing of narrow passages and dirt lanes he’d never encounter in this sterile landscape. Th...
Weekly Contest #90
The people of Southwold had christened it ‘Lost Lover’s Beech’. The tree had stood for decades at the perimeter of the village playing fields, where the neatly mowed grass merged into the sprawling spinney. Children were cautioned not to enter the small gathering of trees or go near the Beech. Parents warned their sons and daughters that there were spirits wandering the woods or that the badger setts in there were home to goblins. Harmless myth to keep local kids from being stung by nettles or twisting their ankles tripping over tree roots. ...
Weekly Contest #89
He pulled another thread from the unravelling sleeve of his sweater. Jess had never been good at being on time but even twenty minutes was a stretch for her. Taking another sip of the rapidly cooling coffee, he reread her message announcing she was on her way. The larvae of worry squirmed in his stomach. Nothing quelled or quietened the scenarios playing through his head of her possible reactions. Would she cry or shout at him or just go silent? He didn't know which he'd rather have, probably anger. It was easier to read and deal with than t...
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